Breathe Me Gently
by i-once-wrote-a-dream
Summary: "I don't know if I'm into guys or just you." Alternatively, a Being 17 au that literally no one asked for. Or even thought about.
1. Chapter 1

Even

Sometimes, Even hikes to the lake. He sits by and watches the waves ripple. There were ducks a few days ago. Sometimes, he strips down and jumps in. The sting of the ice cold water makes him feel more alive than anything else. It's ok, though. He likes it. The solitude. The undercurrent of wildlife buzzing through the air. It's his and it isn't and there's something beautiful about that.

Even's sitting at the edge of the lake, legs dangling in the water, bare body molding against the rocky ledge. The air is clearer here than the air in the city. Clear of the bullshit and everything else that makes him hate his school and the people there. Blond curls briefly flit behind his eyelids and it takes a moment for him to remember to scoff at it.

Even Bech Næsheim is a little fucked up. 'A result of a toxic home environment,' one of his teachers had written on his report card. He hit a lot of kids that year. He doesn't do it anymore. Or, at least, as much as he used to. That might be a lie, but it doesn't really matter anymore. All he cares about is the way the frozen morning air feels in his lungs. It feels like he isn't running away.

"How are you doing, momma?" Even crawls into bed with her, resting his head against her chest. It's been a long time since she's had the energy to hold him like she used to, and he's missed the way she smells.

"Good as ever, sweet boy." She kisses his hair and lifts his chin to look at his face. "Shouldn't you be leaving for school soon?" Even buries his face in her neck and groans.

"I don't know why you think it's so important. I'm just going to take over the farm, high school isn't going to help me, Ma." It's a road they've been down almost every day since the start of his senior year.

She fixes him with a glare, that might be menacing if she didn't look so weak. If her hair wasn't as limp and her skin as sallow. Pulmonary infection. He's heard it from countless doctors in countless ways, and it still knocks the air out of him when he _sees_ it. Sees his mom deteriorating, even when a soul that bright shouldn't fade as quickly as it seems to be. They've been given ten more years, and Even is determined to make them the best ten years she's ever had.

"Get your ass to school, baby. I don't want to hear it today." He nods once, resigned, and smiles down at her before heading out the door. He fills the cattle feeder and makes his way on the familiar path down the mountain.

His momma is the most beautiful woman Even's ever known. Her tan skin and dark hair contrast his pale features that remind him that he's not really hers, but she's never really let him feel it. She's his momma, and even though questions about his mom -the woman she doesn't talk about- sit at the tip of his tongue, he's her boy. He's the one who gets her medicine and picks her fresh flowers, and he's the one who holds her after her husband leaves for the hundredth time that month. They're a family.

Even's trek to school is a long one. Two whole hours. An hour and a half long hike through the mountains and then a bus ride to the hellhole that is his school. It's a bitch and a half on a good day, and when it snows, Even thinks about jumping in the lake and never coming back up. He's never serious, not really. He's got his momma and the farm to take care of. He wouldn't do it. It's just a comforting thought.

"Get in, kid." The bus driver says the same thing everyday and everyday, Even adds to his list of ways to kill the man. He has 349 so far.

He's halfway through the ride before he remembers his incomplete calculus homework, and he figures he's probably fucked anyway, so he closes his eyes and lets sleep take him far from the road to Nissen.

"Mr. Bech Næsheim, this is the third time this week, I can't let it slide anymore, son." Even looks up at his teacher blankly, before returning his gaze to the equally blank worksheet in her hands.

"I just didn't have time. Sorry." He knows he should probably give more of a shit, but he really can't. The bright red 12 on the page means nothing to someone destined to cattle and hay.

"I'm giving you this week. That's it. Get it together or we're going to be having this conversation with the headmaster." He can feel the other students' eyes on him, but Valtersen's gaze from the door ignites _something_ in Even and, really, you can't blame him for tripping the asshole as he walks by.

 _Fucking prick thinks he can judge me?_ Even whips his head back and loudly scoffs at the boy's audacity to look scandalized. If he weren't in a classroom, he'd probably spit on him.

Isak Valtersen. He doesn't like him. He just doesn't. The kid has everything too easy. Good grades. Good friends. Probably has parents that love him. Even fucking hates him.

He's gay too. Out and everything. Everytime he looks at Even, he can't help but feel a little gross. He's probably imagining him naked or something, and that irks the hell out of him. He's not homophobic or anything, but he just doesn't swing that way. Gives as good as he gets, though, and that's something Even can respect. He never just backs down, which is why he supposes the kid is so much fun to fuck with.

Still. Even really fucking hates him.


	2. Chapter 2

Lying there on the ground, Isak's face flushes with an anger and outrage only that Næsheim kid can inspire in him. He lets Mahdi help him up to his seat, and settles back to glare at the back of his perfectly coiffed head. His eyes narrow whenever Even turns to glare at him, which is surprisingly frequent for a boy who hates him.

"Dude, you have to say something. He can't just keep treating you like shit." Mahdi, ever the voice of reason, needs to back off. Isak can't just _snitch._

"I'm not some kind of pussy, man. I can handle one homophobe." Isak ignores Mahdi's rant about how 'the pussy is one of the strongest things on the planet, and he needs to give it the respect it deserves,' and instead focuses on Even. There was a time when that name set off butterflies in his stomach. A small, first year Isak often watched him cross the schoolyard on the mornings he got there early enough. It all went to shit after Emma outed him, though, and while he doesn't regret it now, he still wishes it didn't happen. That he could have done it quietly and on his own terms, and he could continue to pine after the prettiest straight boy he'd ever seen.

Even's a massive dick, though, so it's alright. And no matter how beautiful he is, Isak still hates him.

"Hi, baby." Marianne Valtersen is a powerhouse of a woman. And it's not uncommon for her to be rushing out at odd hours, taking every house call that comes her way. Isak wants to be just like her when he's older.

"Hei, mom." She kisses his head and turns back to look through her bag, probably missing her RX pad (she loses it at least twice a day).

"Work?" There are cookies from one of her patients on the table and Isak helps himself to three.

"Hm? Yeah. I got a house call up in the mountains, so you probably shouldn't expect me back until late. Try not to trash the house while I'm gone, yeah?" He grins up at her, scrunching his nose. His mom is the best person he knows.

"Well, shit. Jonas and I already invited the entire school over. I guess I'll just have to let everyone down, now. Have I ever told you that you're stunting my social growth?" Marianne throws her head back, and Isak giggles with her.

"There's leftovers in the fridge, but you can order pizza when the boys come over."

"I never said they were."

"Isak, baby, you don't have any other friends." Nevermind. His mom is cancelled. Not the best. The absolute worst.

She leaves with loud, wet kiss on his cheek and a cheerful wave. Isak bounds to the kitchen in search of food, but gives up when his phone starts to go off.

 **Jonas**

 _Is, you gotta talk to someone about Even_

 **Mahdi**

 _Seriously man_

 **Magnus**

 _What di he do_

 _*did_

 **Isak**

 _Mahdi stfu jonas isn't my mom_

 _He did nothing_

 **Mahdi**

 _I can tell her too if it'll mean you'll do smth_

 _We care about you_

 _Loser_

 **Isak**

 _Sniiiitcchhh_

 _But don't tell her. I'm handling it_

 _Asshole_

 **Jonas**

 _Handling it? Dude all you do is fight with him_

 _And fuck yeah I'm your mom. Who feeds you when she's working?_

 **Isak**

 _Fuck off_

 _And can we stop talking about him?_

 _He's irrelevant_

 **Magnus**

 _Is it cuz ur gay?_

 _I heard he's homophobic. Vilde told me that it's probably a hate crime_

 _Jonas are you my mom too?_

 **Jonas**

 _No._

 _Only Isak. :D_

 **Isak**

 _You told Vilde?!_

 **Magnus**

 _:( Jonnaaaaaassss_

 _And ja_

 _No secrets between us_

 **Mahdi**

 _Lol it's ok, I'm your mom Mags_

 _And as your mom I'm grounding you._

 **Isak**

 _You guys aren't allowed to come over anymore._

 **Jonas**

 _So we should be there at 17?_

 **Isak**

 _I have so much homework to do_

 **Mahdi**

 _I got some really good shit yesterday_

 **Isak**

 _18\. I want to at least get through some of it_

 **Magnus**

 _yESSS!_

"How are you doing, though? Like for real." Jonas has a way of asking something without really asking, and a lot of the time it makes Isak want to run and hide, but with his head foggy from the smoke, (or was it just the room?) Isak wants to give in. He does, because it's Jonas, and it's quiet and he's warm and that pizza was damn good.

"Good. I mean, I don't love the situation. But it could be a lot worse." He half shrugs before taking a long drag and then passing on the joint.

"It seems pretty bad now. I don't know what worse would look like."

"There's another universe where he's awful. More than this one. He's probably a serial killer there. Hey, maybe I'm like some kind of Harley Quinn and we're in love or some shit. I look really good in booty shorts, though." They both laugh silently, shoulders shaking, but Jonas is some kind of Dr. Phil and when he's cleared his throat, there's that _I'm going to advise you now, kid_ look in his eyes.

"Ok, but we're in this universe. And we have the entire year to get through. It would be nice if you could go a week without bruises."

"They build character." Isak mumbles, not really feeling the weed anymore. He just wants to sleep.

"Who told you that? Eskild?" Isak rolls his eyes. Eskild would never say something like that.

"You have to get over your thing with Eskild, man. He's a good guy. He likes to pretend he's all hard and military, but he's a teddy bear." Built like a rock, though. Eskild is more than a mentor; he's a brother, but Jonas doesn't see that.

They let Mahdi deal with Magnus' 'is teddy bear gay slang?' and Isak's head lolls back.

"Yeah, ok. Still. I'm not letting it go." He really wishes Jonas would, though.

"Fine, but can we sleep now? I'm so tired."

Somehow they all end up in Isak's bed, tangled in each other. Every neck is going to be so sore tomorrow, but Isak falls asleep with a smile on his face.


	3. Chapter 3

**Even**

 _It's just a routine checkup. Just refilling her prescription. It's going to be fine. She's alright._

Even's shaking hands still in the dog's fur where he had been trying to find comfort. The sound of a car coming up the road breaks his chant and he puts on his best smile for his mother's doctor.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Mari. You must be Helene's son?" The doctor looks nice enough, bright eyes that seem kind of familiar. She smiles at him like his momma used to.

"Even," he holds out a hand. "She's up at the house." He walks ahead, letting her follow him up the path.

"He's such a good boy, but I swear, he has the social skills of a carpet! I haven't met a girlfriend since he was in middle school." Dr. Mari laughs and Even can't stop smiling. His momma is fine, and he can't find it in himself to be angry at anything.

"The day you make fyrstekake for me, I'll bring a girlfriend around." He grins up at them, loving the twinkle in his momma's eye.

"Well if that's all it takes." Helene moves to stand, but is pushed back by the doctor.

"Perhaps we should give Even some time to convince a girl to come out here before you get baking, yeah?" She looks at Even, a stern _don't stress her out_ clear in her hazel eyes. He nods once, and listens carefully as she explains Helene's new medicine.

Beads of sweat drip from his forehead onto Sonja's bare chest, and maybe he should slow the fuck down, but he can't. Sonja's nails dig into his back and the pain spurs him on. Even leans in to lick it off her and Sonja giggles mid moan. It should have done something for him. Anything. It used to. But Even grunts, annoyed and thrusts harder. He's aware of his name on her lips, the smell of their sex permeating the room and the tight, wet heat heat around him, but his mind is a million miles away. He can't get rid of the image of a curved lips from his head. Smiling, frowning, spaced out teeth. Split lip. Blood. Stretched pretty and pink around him. Tongue covered in Even's come.

And _fuck_ if that doesn't go straight to his cock. Before he knows it, he's shooting into the condom inside Sonja.

"It doesn't have to be like this, you know." Sonja hands him a cigarette, that hopeful look on her face that Even hates. There was a time when he would have done anything to keep her happy. Back when his momma took care of the farm and his piece of shit step dad stayed away like he was supposed to. Back when Even knew what it was like to be innocent and in love.

"You know we're better off friends than anything else." Even takes a long drag before settling in next to her. He owes their friendship this, at least.

"Are we, though?" Her voice is a soft, weak thing, and it almost hurts to know that Even did that. But he's not sorry. He's so fucked up, she deserves better.

"Of course we are. The best." Lie. He doesn't talk to her unless they're arranging when and where to meet. He doesn't have friends.

"Remember when that time at my cabin? When we were 15?" He does. The beginning of their end. Or maybe it wasn't the end. They weren't officially anything to begin with. So how does that end? "I knew I was in love with you on that trip."

" _Sonja."_ He can't do this. He doesn't love her, won't ever love her. Doesn't even know what that's supposed to mean. "Please, don't."

"We could be so good together, Ev. We used to be so good." Even runs a hand through his hair and sighs. He leans over to put out the stub on her homemade ashtray, trying to find the words to let her down gently.

"Son, I'm sorry, but this? This is all I can give you. I'm not the same kid you used to hang out with. Don't make this harder than it has to be." He doesn't let himself feel anything when she flinches away from the hand he's put on hers.

"Then what are we doing? You're the only person I've been hooking up with, and I know you aren-"

"You don't, though."

"What?"

"You don't know that I haven't been with anyone else." Shame and guilt seep into Even's bones and even though he hasn't slept with anyone else, he wishes he had. At least then he wouldn't be breaking the girl over nothing.

Even's pulling his clothes on faster than Sonja's tears can fall and he's out of her apartment before the sobs reach his ears.

She'll realize he did her a favor. Maybe not now. Maybe not in a year. But someday, when she's happy with someone who can give her the world, she'll be happy that she never got involved with the trainwreck that is Even Bech Næsheim.

Even stays out late when his stepfather comes home. Their house is too small for the two of them and his momma is too weak to get between them. Really, it's best if he doesn't go home at all. He does tonight, though. Staying with Sonja isn't an option anymore, and he's got jack to rent a room with. He spends more time by the lake, instead, and the cold barely touches him there.

He's still seeing those lips and no amount of digging his palms into his eyes will chase it away. All it does is put white spots between the images and Even's so fucking done. He can't have anything easy, can he? If it's not his shitty stepdad, its school. If it isn't school it's his momma's deteriorating health or Valtersen and he's going to lose it.

Sometimes, he wonders what it would be like to live with his mom. If she hadn't left him and his momma. He'd probably be a lot more normal. Maybe even happy. He'd be dating Sonja, and might even be chill with Valtersen. No, Even likes hating that kid too much. They'd still hate each other.

"Come on baby gay, running up a mountain builds stamina. You're going to need it if you want to get past basic." Even's pulled from his thoughts and turns over in the water to look up at the clearing. A man, maybe in his 20s, running backwards, laughing with someone behind him.

Then, as if he'd conjured him from his mind Valtersen comes into view, panting. From his distance, Even can see his red face screwed up into something that hits Even in the pit of his stomach. Slowly, he rises out of the water, making as little sound as possible, but it doesn't matter. Valtersen whips his head around until he sees Even at the edge of the lake. His eyes widen, mouth popping open, and time stops.

Even can't move, but it seems like Valtersen can't either. He watches the boy's eyes drift down before turning away from him. It takes Even a moment to remember that he's completely naked, and it makes him feel a little sick that Valtersen's seen him naked. Sick that he's probably going to star in the kid's wet dreams. Sick that he kind of likes it. Wants him to think about Even when he's touching himself. _So fucking sick._

"What are you looking at, Isak?"

"N-nothing, Eskild. Just taking a break. You think Mom's going to make dessert tonight?" Valtersen walks away, probably pulling 'Eskild' away from the clearing.

Even doesn't really understand what he's feeling anymore. Rarely does these days. But the taste of disappointment is heavy on his tongue, and he has no idea why.


	4. Chapter 4

**Isak**

He doesn't think about it. He doesn't. Isak Valtersen does not think about the most beautiful boy he's ever seen. Or his pale skin and his lean, muscled form. He doesn't think about the trail of golden hair glinting in the sun, leading to the nicest dick Isak has ever seen. It was far and brief, but Isak had gotten enough of a look to know that he would have loved to see it closer. To hold it and taste it and let his tongue and fingers map out the boy attached to it.

And that's _fucking terrifying._

Gym class is...gym class. Isak isn't opposed to the work. In fact, he loves it. Loves the metallic taste in his mouth and the burn in his calves. He loves soccer and the control and power he has behind the ball. What he doesn't love is this goddamn basketball unit in a class full of people he can't stand (Næsheim included). He has zero skill with it and it's really no surprise he's being picked last for the third class this week.

Ok, not dead last (Even isn't picked at all), but it's embarrassing as shit. He's already the gay kid, but now he has to be the gay kid who sucks at sports. It's not like Isak is some effeminate, limp-wristed, gay boy that runs like a little girl. One of the things that held him back from coming out sooner was becoming some kind of stereotype and that's exactly what's happened. He knows what everyone thinks about him.

 _I swear, I saw Isak in a dress once. Gays must love that shit._

 _Didn't Elise say something about seeing him making out with some older guy? Always knew that kid was a bit of a slut._

The class passes fairly quickly. No one passes the ball to Isak, and he's glad. He couldn't have done anything with it with Even's heavy glare on him the entire time. It's nothing new, but after yesterday, Even seems like he's out for blood.

Somehow the ball lands in Even's hands and the rest of the class shies away from him. He looks around for anyone to pass it to, but no one makes eye contact. He frowns at the ball, and Isak's traitorous heart stutters for a moment. He's not supposed to feel anything. It's one thing to be attracted to him, physically. It's an entirely different concept to feel bad for Even. To smooth out his furrowed brow and kiss his lips until they stretch into a smile.

Isak takes a step back when he looks up to find Even's eyes boring into his face. And then, because Isak's a dramatic piece of shit, time seems to slow down. Or speed up. It doesn't matter, all he knows is that he has no clue what just happened.

He remembers the impact. And the pain. He remembers the blazing, wild eyes inches from his own. He remembers the low snarl of _fucking queer_ in his ear. Mostly, though, he remembers the hard length of Even's cock pressed against him as they fought.

 **Vilde**

 _Are you ok?_

 _I heard about what happened today_

 _Do you want to report him? I'll come with you if you need me to._

 **Isak**

 _Does everyone know?_

 **Vilde**

 _I tried to get people to stop talking about you, but it didn't really work._

 _Sorry._

 **Isak**

 _Thanks for trying._

 **Vilde**

 _You know it's because I love you 3_

 **Isak**

 _3_

 **Vilde**

 _You didn't answer my question_

 _The girls and I will keep everyone off your back if you let us know_

 _(Even Jonas. I'm pretty sure Sana can take him)_

 **Isak**

 _Lol he's a meddling asshole. But he's my meddling asshole_

 _Wait_

 _That came out wrong_

 _I'm fine._

 _I'm not some fragile fucking flower just cuz I like dick_

 _I can handle Even_

 **Vilde**

 _Ok calm down_

 _We just care about you_

 **Isak**

 _Sorry_

 _Still a little pissed_

 **Vilde**

 _3_

"One, two. One, two, three. Watch your guard." Eskild's going easy on him, and he should probably be annoyed at that, but he can't really feel his face or his ribs.

"Can we- _shit_ \- can we take a break for a sec?" Isak settles on the ground near his water bottle, panting hard.

He's downed nearly half of the water before acknowledging Eskild's not so subtle stare. "What is it, Eskild?"

"Are we going to talk about it?" Yeah, fuck that.

"About what?"

"Don't be a shit, Is. You never ask for extra sessions unless something's up. And your face is, like, seven different colours right now." Isak sighs and slumps against the wall. He doesn't want to talk about anything, except maybe Eskild's Grindr matches, but he's terrible at keeping anything from his mentor. (Isak will never refer to Eskild as 'guru' or any other ridiculous title he comes up with, thank you very much.)

"I'm a-ok, Eskild. It's just regular teen stuff." Isak tries for a smile, but it comes out wrong and Eskild looks less assured than when they started.

"Regular teen stuff? Baby, you are the image of troubled youth. Bruises and all." He sits down next to Isak, and pull him into his side. Isak squirms and tries to push him off, but leans into him when Eskild doesn't let up.

"I don't know what to tell you." Isak hates that his voice sounds so small. So _weak._

"How about we start with your face. What happened, Isak?"

Sometimes Isak has a hard time talking about things that aren't superficial. Lie. He always has trouble with feelings. He pretends that he's doing alright. Fakes his way through tough conversations and acts like he enjoys being himself. And that's it. That's the thing. He hates it. He doesn't want to be Isak Valtersen; gay kid. He doesn't even want to be Isak Valtersen.

"I got into a fight." He says the words slow and careful.

"I can see that. You've been fighting a lot lately." Eskild looks down at Isak in that _Eskild_ way and Isak knows he's seeing right through him.

"I never start them."

"Ok. I'm not teaching you how to box to attack people. Only self-defense, right?"

"Yeah. Or, maybe not never. I've started a good five percent of them." Or ten. The point is, it's almost always Even's fault.

"Isak," he sighs. "Who's doing it? And how often?"

"You can't tell anyone. I mean it, Eskild." He nods after a beat, brows furrowed. "There's this guy. Even. I'm pretty sure he's picking fights because I'm gay."

"Isak, you should report him to the school."

"No. I can't. Really, it's not that bad. We fight, and then it cools off for a while. I can take care of it."

"Baby, this isn't how you take care of something. Do your friends know?" He shifts to face Isak. "We can go to your headmaster and make sure he takes care of it without it being about you. Even won't know."

"Eskild, I don't want to. Please, just listen. He's probably not going to graduate, I don't want to fuck up his life with a record too. He's just a little messed up. I can handle it, I promise. The second I can't, I'll tell you."

He sighs again, resigned and Isak prays it's enough to keep him satisfied.

"Ok, I trust your judgement, kiddo. But you have to keep your promise."

"I swear."

"Nei! Pappa, you can't say things like that. I'm telling Mamma." It feels good to talk to his pappa. They hadn't seen each other in a few months and Isak had been starting to miss his pappa's booming laughter.

"Oi, don't you dare, little man. Speaking of Mamma, when is she getting back?"

Isak moves to check his phone, but before he can, the door opens and his mamma's voice carries through the house. He looks up at his Pappa and they share a knowing smile.

"Baby! I've brought someone home."

"Are you cheating on Pappa now?" Marianne comes rushing in to pinch his nose in mock anger. Isak sputters a laugh and pushes her away, his pappa watching and chuckling at them.

"Silly boy. One of my patients is being transferred to the hospital, so her son is going to stay with us for a bit." Isak tears his gaze away from his pappa on the screen to see a lanky figure holding a duffel bag in the doorway. His face pales when he meets those clear blue eyes that have been plaguing his thoughts. "This is Even. You go to the same school."

Isak tries to look everywhere else, but he can't help the way he's drawn to Even. His thoughts are a tangled mess of _hate_ and _so hot_ and _what the fuck._

"Halla, Isak. Nice to meet you."


	5. Chapter 5

**Even**

"Even, look. I'm doing my best here but if you don't start putting in the work, you won't be graduating with the rest of your class."

Even stares at his counselor, not wanting to give in. He doesn't plan on graduating anyway. When he tells her as much, she frowns at him. "What about film school? You were pretty keen on it in your first year. Have you changed your mind?"

"I have a farm." It's as much of an answer as she's going to get.

Eventually, the counselor throws her hands up and passes him a list of peer tutors. He's certain the world is playing a cruel joke on him, when the only available student is Isak Valtersen.

 _Fuck me._

If Even weren't a dramatic fucker, he'd see this as a good thing. If there's one thing Valtersen excels at, it's school. He's annoyingly perfect at everything, constantly at the top of the class. Regardless, there's a tutoring schedule in his backpack that he wants to burn, but Mari saw it before he had the chance, and now he's sitting at the Valtersen's kitchen table, waiting for the one person he'd rather not think about.

Even's got next to nothing on his paper when the door opens. He watches Valtersen stalk through the house, dumping his stuff in their shared room, before breezing behind him and heading straight to the fridge.

A plate with a couple slices of pizza on it clatters in front of him. Valtersen looks about as pleased as Even feels.

"So, what first?"

It's awkward. It's _really_ awkward, and Even only has himself to blame. Well, no, Valtersen isn't innocent either, but while he'd never admit it, this _thing_ between them started because of Even. And now they're stuck in this weird limbo where neither of them really do anything, but stare. Even's face is a cool, vacant mask, but his thoughts are a swirl of shame and unwanted desire. It's not easy to ignore how soft his skin felt under his fingers. Or how vivid those green eyes are up close.

Even's jaw is clenched tight and his fingernails are digging into his palms. He almost doesn't notice Valtersen until the boy is gently shaking his arm.

"Even?" He recoils suddenly. "Hey, sorry." Valtersen backs up, palms raised. "Look, I get that you don't want to work with me. I can talk to the other tutors and see if anyone is willing to switch with me, if you'd like." Even's never seen his face so earnest or unguarded before.

"Uh, it's ok, I guess." He watches Valtersen nod, and pull up the chair next to him with wary eyes.

"So let's start with English, yeah?" Even says nothing as the other boy pulls out his binder. He's not nearly as offended as he should be when Isak grimaces at the partially done assignments.

Even's become very good at lying. To his mamma, his teachers. Himself. He can tell the world that he's alright. Tell himself that Markus is his real dad, and that when he goes to bed with bruises, it's just discipline. He's a strict man. It doesn't mean he doesn't love him. He's just looking out for him. Doesn't want his only son to be _like that._ And he gets it. He tells himself he isn't like that. And it almost works.

He's an expert at denying what motivated his hate for Valtersen. A master at ignoring those traitorous thoughts about the damn boy. That damn boy, who got so far under his skin, Even wasn't sure where he ended and Isak began. Who, despite their strange, violent history, managed to be sweet and nice and nothing like Even deserved at all.

It's confusing the shit out of him. There's a stark difference between the grimace and narrowed eyes he'd come to associate with Valtersen, and the soft spoken, patient boy with the shy smile that he met today.

Hating someone is heavy. It weighs on you in ways that you don't realize until it's not really there anymore. Even wants so desperately to hate him, wants to feel that fire when he's close, but it's not there. No matter how hard he searches, all he's left with is exhaustion, sagging his body with it.

He hasn't been to the lake in a while. He's yearning for it. Needs the water to flow through him, to clean out the spaces. Wash out Isak from his thoughts.

"Nei, mamma. Yeah, I'm fine. I'm going to do my homework in a bit. No, you don't need to send him to check on me. They're treating me well. Seriously, just focus on recovering, ok? You get better and then we can take that trip to Paris like you've always wanted." Even can't help the grin that spreads across his face when his mamma laughs, and for a minute he can forget where he is.

But life isn't like that for people like Even. So of course, Valtersen walks into the room just then. Even turns, facing the open window instead.

"Me too, mamma. Take care." He tosses the phone on his 'bed' and leans over the window sill. The cool breeze is almost enough to make Even forget about the other boy in the room, but there's something about Isak Valtersen that's wormed its way under his skin, festering there, buzzing whenever he's close.

"How is-how's your mom doing?" His voice is soft and weak and Even really wishes they would go back to ignoring each other.

"It's none of your fucking business, Valtersen." He's not sure why he's being so aggressive. Something between them had changed tonight, but old habits die hard, and this habit clings to Even like a film over his skin.

"You should probably use my name, you know. Like I know that you hate me or whatever, but there are three other Valtersens. That's got to be confusing as shit in your head."

"I'm good."

"I don't have to share my room with you, you know." Even snorts.

"Yeah you do, though. Mari wouldn't let you kick me out." Actually, Even has no clue what Mari would do. Isak's her son and no matter how well they get along, he's going to be more important to her.

"Can I ask you one more question?"

"Will you shut the fuck up if you do?"

"Yeah." And here it its. The _why do you hate me so much_ or _what did I do?_ Even doesn't have an answer. Not one that makes sense, anyway. Fuck, he doesn't even know if he hates him anymore. "Why'd you pretend not to know me? I just don't get it."

He lets out a long breath. This fucking kid is so weird. "It's easier than telling your mom we don't like each other."

"But we _don't_ like each other. And now we have to act like we're getting to know each other."

"I said one question."

"Right. Sorry."

Even lies down on his mattress on the floor and checks his phone.

 **Sonja**

 _Need u_

 _We can stay just friends_

He turns it off and flips over onto his stomach. _Fuck all of this._

"Hey, Even?" He grunts, a thousand and three percent done with this night. "I hope your mom gets better."

"Hey Isak?"

"Yeah?"

"Go to sleep, cocksucker." He smiles into his pillow a little when Isak chuckles.

"Night, Even."


	6. Chapter 6

**Isak**

When Isak was seven, his mamma would take him out to a park near their house. It wasn't much. Just some swings, a rusty silver slide, and a sand pit. Most kids stopped playing there when the shiny, new red playground was put up on the park across the city, but Isak loved it there. The whole place was surrounded by big evergreens, tall as the sky.

It was his own enchanted forest, tucked away from the rest of the world. And Isak was the prince who took care of all the animals in his little kingdom. Or, well, he chased a lot of squirrels and let ants crawl all over his hands. He helped a bird once, though. It broke a wing and Isak cried for his new friend. His mamma helped him take her to a vet in the city and she kissed his forehead and called him "the sweetest boy in the world."

He brought a boy out there once. Years later. He showed him his favorite spot and bared his soul. Matthias was three years older and very pretty. He held onto Isak's hand, talked in words that he didn't understand, and called Isak beautiful. Matthias left him the night they kissed in the park. Said Isak was the sweetest boy he knew and waved like he wasn't moving to another country.

And then last year happened. It dragged him out, kicking and screaming. Left his chest open and his heart ripped to shreds in the middle of his schoolyard. Then whispers started. He wanted to shout ' _no, that's not me.'_ But everyone just shook their heads at him, eyes filled with pity, and kept talking.

He doesn't go to the park anymore.

 **Jonas**

 _Pregame at ur place?_

 _You dont come out with us anymore_

 _I miss ur moms cake_

 **Isak**

 _Fu dont take advantage of my mom_

 _And i cant_

 _Im tutoring næsheim_

 **Jonas**

 _EVEN NÆSHEIM?_

 _Like homophobe asshole næsheim?_

 _Wtf_

 **Isak**

 _Ifuckingkr_

 _Im the only one with time_

 _They wont let me switch and bc im smart as shit and he needs help_

 **Jonas**

 _We get it ur a genius_

 **Isak**

 _Lol let me brag thats the only thing getting me through this_

 _And its gonna look so good on uni applications_

 **Jonas**

 _I can be there for moral support_

 _Id do that you know_

 **Isak**

 _Lol and bring a guard dog? No thx_

 _He doesn't need more shit on me_

 **Jonas**

 _Anyway lemme know if i should just show up at ur place yeah?_

 _Eva and Noora are making me shop with them. (Save me)_

 **Isak**

 _Lol your turn to third wheel. Suffer asshole_

 _But nah its nothing i can't handle_

 _Come over tmr tho?_

 **Jonas**

 _*thumbs up emoji*_

Isak knows he shouldn't be so nice. He knows that Even probably deserves every bad thing that's ever happened to him. But he just couldn't. Not after he'd seen that look in his eyes. The thing is, Isak knows that look. He's lived that look. The kind that makes its way onto your face when you've felt hollow for too long. And now, despite what Even may or may not deserve, Isak couldn't help but soften at the boy that's just as broken as Isak feels. It won't erase the shit he's put Isak through. Won't even come close to it. Still, Isak smiled and helped, and Even wasn't that bad. He cracked dry jokes and the corners of his lips were lifted more often than not.

"Studying hard, boys?" Isak grinned up at his mamma, and watched Even do the same.

"I'd study harder if there were cookies."

"Oh, you're baking cookies?"

"I could, but that would take time from all the work Even and I are doing. You don't want us to fail, do you?" Isak pouted and his mamma laughed loudly.

"Real fucking cute. Can you believe this kid, Even?" Isak's stomach flipped pleasantly when his mom shared a look with Even. The moment his mamma left, Even's attention turned to their work, brow furrowing every few minutes.

It was then Isak just let himself look. Followed the long straight line of Even's nose to the plump curve of his top lip. Back up to those long lashes just grazing high cheekbones. Not for the first time, Isak thought about just how beautiful Even was. How he wanted to just reach out and touch. He was close enough to do it. Just...a little...closer.

"How do I do number 17? Isak?" Isak starts at his name. Right. Homework.

"Um, what?"

"Number 17."

"Uh yeah. Let me see it."

Everything is just...weird.

Like. Really fucking weird.

Isak doesn't know how to navigate through this new tension between them. It's not really tension, but there isn't a word to describe the way Even smiles in his general direction now, Isak has to admit, it's a good smile. Gorgeous, even. It slots onto his face with such ease it's hard to remember that any other expression had been there before. It makes his frowns harder to bear. They all look wrong, and all Isak wants to do is push at the corners until it's better.

And it leaves Isak wondering if he's experiencing some kind of Stockholm syndrome when it comes to Even. He hates the way his heart races when they talk. He can't focus sometimes when his heavy gaze is on him. He hates that he lives for the moments Even is pressed up against him, whatever the circumstance. He feels gross for loving the hard planes of Even's body. It's sick and messed up and Isak should consider therapy for his...issues.

But Isak just doesn't want to deal right now so he shoots Eskild a text. Some running will do him good.

Isak is high.

Body heavy, thoughts swimming through jello, giggling at everything _high_. And it's really great. He hasn't had a chance to let go like this in a long time and now he's a content puddle on his bed. Of course, Even had to walk in then. Because Isak can't have anything to himself. Their tentative truce didn't exactly make them best friends and Isak really just wanted some time in his happy place.

"Are you smoking?"

"No."

"Can I get a hit?"

"Hmm." His arms aren't working right but he manages to pass the joint over. He's still staring at his ceiling (was it always so white?) when he feels the bed dip and then the warmth of a body next to his.

"Are you in my bed?"

"No." And that's it. They just lose it right there on Isak's bed. It's a little surreal. The most beautiful boy Isak's ever seen just in his bed like he doesn't hate Isak. His arm is radiating heat and Isak wants to burrow in the small comfort. His laugh is pretty, just like him. Even's eyes sparkle in the dark. What a fucking concept.

"But, um, this is nice."

"Nice?" He can hear Even's eyebrows.

"You know. Not fighting. Not being hated. It's nice."

"I don't hate you." Isak snorts.

"Sure you don't."

"I don't hate you, Isak." Isak. It sounds so nice from Even's mouth. Eeesahk. "I know I'm a little fucky but I don't-it's not hate."

"You're a lot fucky. Are you saying you beat me up for no reason?"

Even's quiet for a long time. Isak wonders if he's crossed some sort of line, when he feels Even turn to to face him. He looks over and really someone should have prepared him for this. He's never had the opportunity to study Even's eyes. They've always been a piercing blue, but Isak had no idea they were so deep.

"It wasn't for no reason. But it's not a very good reason."

"Is this you telling me you don't know how to say homophobe." Isak isn't sure where this is coming from, but he suspects it's Even's hypnotic eyes. They could pull secrets from a spy. Or maybe they just work that way on Isak.

"I'm not-it's not because you're gay. That's just easy, you know? Just something I could use. Because you seem to hate it."

"I don't know how to react to that." Isak frowns, the words falling out of his mouth before he even understands them. "I didn't, like, come out, you know. I had a plan. In a few years, I'd tell my friends slowly. Tell my parents when pappa comes home. But pappa came and went and then fucking Emma happened." He laughs wetly, tears barely registering. "'It's 2017, come out of the closet.' Like it's that easy." Even's hand made it's way to Isak's hip, rubbing slow circles that Isak can't feel.

"My mamma's husband is an asshole." Even offers and Isak grabs at it. Anything to take away the feelings those memories bring.

"He doesn't like you?"

"Fucking hates me. He'd probably beat on my mamma too if she weren't so sick." _Oh._

"Can-"

"What time is it?" Isak squints at his phone, the harsh light burning his retinas.

"21:21."

"Let's go." Even jumps up with a speed Isak doesn't understand, and heads to the open window. "Seriously, just come with me." It takes a great deal of effort for Isak to peel himself off his bed, but he let himself be pulled out into the frigid night.

"We're going to freeze to death."

"Not the worst way to go."

"Even, where are we going?" Isak blows hot air onto his palms in an effort to keep warm. Something blocks Isak's view of Even, and _oh it's his hoodie._

It smells so good.

"Please?"

Isak is weak and gone for a boy that will never want him back. And still, he'd follow Even anywhere.

"Ok."

They walk for what feels like years, through streets Isak doesn't care enough to recognize. Hiding his nose in the soft fabric of the hoodie, until a familiar line of trees- dead trees- and a swingset come into view. Rusty slide. Sandpit.

" _You're so beautiful, Isak." Kiss. Lie. "I love you." Kiss. Lie._

"My mom used to bring me here. Her and mamma were fighting a lot at the time."

" _Is this why you won't go out with me? You're fucking gay? It's 2017, come out of the closet."_

Even sends a small, sideways smile his way. Isak doesn't see it. Isak can't see anything through the tears.

" _I don't even want to look at you. You're disgusting."_

Even doesn't notice until Isak's on his knees, quiet sobs shattering the silence of the park.


	7. Chapter 7

**Even**

He's not ready to give this _thing_ meaning. The increased frequency of Isak-related thoughts. Pleasant, _good_ Isak-related thoughts. He's not ready to think about what the fluttering in his stomach when Isak smiles means. He's definitely not ready to assign a label to the way his stomach dropped when Isak started crying in the park a week ago. And now, they haven't spoken in a week, and it's fucking _killing_ him.

Even's spent every night watching the steady rise and fall of Isak's back, not entirely sure the other boy was sleeping. He's been doing his best to forget the way he almost told Isak everything. The way he told him too much. And how easy it was. It's so easy to get lost in Isak and the thought of it makes Even feel numb. He's not like that. He's not going to be that kid.

Sighing, he turns over on his mattress, the cold, empty room echoing the cold, empty feeling in his chest.

Even hates coffee. It tastes like shit most of the time, and only after a disgusting amount of creamer and sugar can he drink it. And even then, it still tastes like shit. But, he supposes, it's alright in this moment. He'd take grimacing into his mug over looking at Sonja sitting across from him.

The cafe is too bright, too happy for this. They haven't spoken since they sat down, and Even's pretending Sonja isn't glaring holes into his face.

"If you're not going to say anything, why did you come."

"Sorry."

"Even."

"Sorry, Son. I'm just- I don't know what to say. I don't know how to talk to you."

"This used to be so easy, Ev." It was. It was easier than breathing. But that was then. And now he can't say a word without shattering hearts.

"I know."

Sonja shifts, pushing hair behind her ear. She's easily the most beautiful girl he knows, and Even wants to feel something for her so bad.

"Fine, we won't talk about it. How's school?"

"It's alright. How's work?"

"I got a promotion. My manager gave me wine to celebrate."

"The pervy one?" He smiles a little, a small half-smirk, and for the first time this feels something close to right. This is good. This is normal.

"Yeah, but the promotion was given to me based on merit, so you can just shut the fuck up." It's easy when there isn't pressure. When she isn't asking _those_ questions, and he doesn't have to fake _those_ feelings. It's easy when he forgets that his problems exist and Sonja ever wanted more.

"Merit, sure." She rolls her eyes and he laughs in return. The sit in comfortable silence, taking occasional sips from their mugs. Something mends.

"You're the worst."

"Your mom's the worst." Everything's been so heavy lately, he's been feeling too much, it so good; this stupid, juvenile insult. It feels good to feel like a kid again.

Sonja mimics him with a nasally voice and they giggle over their shitty coffee.

"Hey, you should really go see your dad. He's been calling me a lot lately."

And then it's not so easy.

"Oh. He probably wants me to come by and work. I've really been slacking off." He laughs it off and changes the subject. They stick to safe topics, but the conversation dies out and the air is tense again.

Nothing is ever easy for Even.

He can't sleep. It's his third sleepless night, this week, and while he's no stranger to it, it really sucks. He tiptoes out of the room and into the kitchen. When his mamma was better and Even was a lot younger, she'd warm up milk for him on nights like this. Sang while she did it. Bad nights always called for cocoa.

Even doesn't bother with the lights, and goes to pull out a pot, when everything goes yellow. Marianne sidles up next to him, wrapped in an intricate shawl.

"Halla, sweetheart. How's it going?" Mari is a wonderful woman and Even often sees his own mamma in her.

"All good, Mari." Her tired, sunny smile looking so achingly familiar, he doesn't even try to chase away the image of Isak in his mind.

"Not tired?" Moms have a sixth sense, Even decides. The one where they just know.

"Not really, just felt like having some cocoa." He starts a little when her shoulder knocks into his, but accepts the comfort it provides.

"I always did say it's never too late for cocoa." She starts to mix up the cocoa and sugar, and Even's grateful for her understanding. "If you ever need a ride to see your mom or back up the mountain, you can always let me know."

He pauses for a beat, then, "I've been taking to her a lot, but she really doesn't want me to come by. So it's ok, but thank you. For everything." He's glad she doesn't comment on his omission.

"Well, my offer still stands. And seriously, it's so good to have you here. Isak is a terror in the kitchen, so it's nice to be able to cook with someone. You're a great kid, Even." He doesn't say anything, but smiles, hyperaware of how wrong she is. The things he's done to Isak haunt him. Even's still unsure what happened with him last week. They were having a really good time. He'd opened up more than he'd ever had to anyone and then suddenly it was gone.

Eventually Marianne heads to bed, leaving him on the couch with his thoughts, the tv on low, blue lights flashing across his face.

It's been a long time, but sometimes Even sees the world in shots and frames. This scene would open on the phone in his hand, message after unanswered message under a bold name _._ Today, breathing and the sounds of a pencil scratching on paper are the soundtrack behind it.

The camera would pan out, but you'd never see his face. Instead, it's shoulders, a bobbing adam's apple. A soft piano melody fills the air. Slowly focus on blonde curls, shaking slightly as the boy writes. Follow the line of his arm, to his hand passing over a sheet of paper, already writing on a fresh one with the other. Heartbeat pounds when their pinkies touch. Then, silence.

Loud voices approach, shattering the peace of the scene. Even loses focus, and turns around to see Marianne walking into the kitchen, a larger figure trailing behind her. Dread fills Even down to his toes. Isak's head lifts, and Even can see him looking at the side of his head.

"Even, I've got a surprise for you." Suddenly, his mouth is too dry, palms slick with sweat.

" _You haven't been doing your job, boy."_ Even looks around, panicked, unable to breathe. The man in front of him stands at a menacing 7 feet and towers over Even. His hands seem so big, and Even's shrinking and shrinking and readies himself for the blow, arms raised and

He gasps, sitting up. His blanket pooled abound his ankles, chest glistening with sweat. Isak's room is bathed in light.

"Are you ok?" Even jumps from the proximity of the whisper. Isak backs away a little, sitting on his haunches.

"I'm fine."

"Ok. Just. You were talking in your sleep." Of course the first time they speak in a week, Even's a mind is a mess.

"I'm good." Isak put his hand on Even's shoulder and the touch burns.

"If you need anything, I'm right here." He can't help but smile at the way Isak flushes as he stands.

"Goodnight, Isak."

They still aren't speaking.

Isak's friends glare at him most days, and he gets it. Deserves it, even. But he thought it was going to change after that night. Instead, Isak's rarely at home, and when he is, the bushy browed one hovers over them protectively. He never gets a chance to talk to him, and frankly, it's pissing Even off.

He's figured out what the fuck he's feeling now. He wants to be Isak's friend. He just wants to hear the kid laugh and maybe laugh with him sometimes, wants that gap-toothed smile beaming up at him. He knows why his friends are so careful with Isak. He's precious. And Even knows that now.

 _Talk to me._

When their eyes meet, Even waves him over, grinning. But he's quickly whisked away by the crowd of boys and girls that usually surround him.

"Isak." He's insane. Actually crazy, to think that this a good idea. Isak looks like a deer caught in headlights. Wide eyed, slack jawed. _Pretty._ "Can we talk?"

"Leave him alone, Næsheim." His bald friend steps up between them. Bushy brows joins in.

"Seriously, I'm not looking for trouble. I just want to talk to him." He raises his arms, open palmed, to show he's harmless.

"He's not going to put up with your shit anymore. You're fucked in the head if you think you're going to get away with this shit." Even's head starts spinning, he really just wants to talk.

"Isak, come on."

"How many times do we have to tell you, he doesn't want to talk to you." It's spat at him, a hand placed on his chest with force. And _fuck,_ if that doesn't make his blood boil.

He pushes back, losing sight of Isak pulling at his friends' arms, and the crowd forming around them to watch the spectacle.

"Fuck you. I wasn't talking to you. Isak's a big boy, he can decide for himself." He's up in bushy brows' face, snarling, pushing his chest up at the shorter boy.

"Jonas, calm down, please." He barely hears Isak, instead falls back into the lockers behind him, surprised at the sudden blow to his stomach.

"Even!" There's someone beside him, helping him get up, but the pain in his stomach is making him nauseous. "Hey can you walk?" He groans and pushes up. There's a flurry of voices around him but he can't focus.

"Jonas, back -"

"Isak -"

"Guys please -"

"We're going to get you to see the nurse, ok." It's Isak. Looking at him with those eyes that make Even feel like he's falling. His arms holding Even up. All Even can see are the faces around them. Hears _that_ word.

Hears it in _that_ gruff voice.

 _Come on you fucking queer, take it like a man._

"No." He's pulling out of Isak's hold.

"Even, calm down. Please." His voice is so gentle, it makes Even want to cry.

"Get the fuck away from me, you goddamn slut." _I don't mean it. Please. I'm sorry._

The silence is deafening. Isak freezes, arms still outstretched.

Even backs away, angry red splotches blooming on his face.

Isak crumples onto the ground.

"Fuck you, Even." His voice is barely a whisper but it's loud enough.

It's loud enough.


End file.
